


Plans

by ilcuoreardendo



Category: Fright Night (2011)
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Seduction, the club scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 10:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8886925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilcuoreardendo/pseuds/ilcuoreardendo
Summary: “Tomorrow evening…” he promises, with a sharp grin, “you’ll pay her a visit.” He moves them to the beat of the music. “Tonight… Well, Charley, tonight I have plans for you.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another old thing originally posted at my [Tumblr](http://ilcuoreardendo-fic.tumblr.com). Requested by a follower.

* * *

It’s chaos when they reach the club.

Charley’s torn away from Amy by a sea of people, a cacophony of sound. He’s half blinded by the spangle of flashing lights, deafened by the harsh thrum of bass, the incoherent words of the DJ through his microphone.

He spies Amy through a break in the crowd, sees Jerry drop gracefully behind her—and how the hell did no one notice a man just dropping from the ceiling?—sees him lean close and Charley surges into the crowd.

By the time he reaches the spot, they’ve vanished.

Blood rushes through Charley’s ears. He breathes shallowly, too fast, tries to think what to do, where to go. Bass thrums, his pulse follows the beat.   

“ _Charley_.” His name is a low hiss in his ear. Arms wrap around him, a cage of fingers trap his wrists against his belly. Charley stiffens as Jerry’s long, lean body presses into him from behind, a chin resting on his shoulder, a mouth and nose brushing the skin of his neck, breathing deep. 

“Where’s Amy?” The words are drowned by the DJ starting the next song, but Jerry hears them anyway. And he points, with a nail that’s grown long, toward the doorway, to the head of blonde hair disappearing out into the night. 

“On her way home,” Jerry says, turning them both to the beat of the music. Jerry holds Charley’s wrists with his right hand, brings his left hand up to pull Charley’s head back against Jerry’s shoulder.  “She’ll wake up tomorrow with a hell of a hangover…”

Charley feels Jerry’s grin against his hair.

“All she’ll remember is breaking up with you,” he sing-songs, “and going home to drown her sorrows.”

For a brief moment, Charley can breathe. Amy’s safe.

Then Jerry releases Charley’s wrists, turns him so they’re chest to chest, holding Charley in a mockery of lovers dancing. Charley catches the faint scent of cold, dark earth, the warm, coppery odor of recently spilled blood.

“But, Charley,” Jerry says, cupping the back of Charley’s head with a hand. “I’m going to give you the chance to make it up to her…”

Charley should look away. He can’t look away. Jerry’s face moves closer. His eyes are black. His lips are red. And they’re on him. Charley can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but part his lips and accept the warm, wet weight of Jerry’s tongue, the sour-sweet trickle of blood down his throat.

Jerry pulls away, cradles Charley’s face. He drags a fingernail down Charley’s cheek. Charley’s skin burns, splits and he feels a trickle of blood curving over his jaw line. Jerry leans down, catches the flow with his tongue.

“Tomorrow evening…” he promises, with a sharp grin, “you’ll pay her a visit.” He moves them to the beat of the music. “Tonight… Well, Charley, tonight I have plans for you.”

Charley’s lost in a haze of sensation. The soft fabric of Jerry’s shirt, the flex of hard muscle beneath, is tantalizing. The brush of an erection against Charley’s leg, that should send a surge of panic through him, only sparks curiosity, the vaguest hint of threat. 

The music thrumming through his head and the staccato rhythm of his own heartbeat drowns out thought. His stomach churns, sends poisoned blood coursing through his system. The sour-sweet taste lingers on his tongue and he has a sudden surge of desire to seal his mouth to the vampire’s, to lick away whatever blood might be left. 

Jerry pulls back, raises one dark eyebrow; for a moment Charley wonders if he can read minds. Then Jerry laughs, dark and rolling, and it lifts the haze just enough for Charley to feel something deep in his belly clench and go cold.

“Oh, kid, do I have plans.”


End file.
